


All The Stars In The Sky

by chocolateisgood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2014 end!verse theory, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Broken Dean, Castiel Helps Dean, Castiel has feelings, Dean/Castiel - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Dean, Sam Winchester Angst, Sam and Dean Winchester - Freeform, angst with a semi-happy ending, but also Sam & Dean's relationship, dogs that look like Sam, guinea pigs, haha well the fluff is brief but there, in a way i guess, not actual end!verse, season 9 spn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 20:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocolateisgood/pseuds/chocolateisgood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based after Cas shut down heaven, releasing ALL the angels to earth- including Lucifer. Sam becomes desperate to find a way to halt the apocalypse once and for all; Dean deals with his fear of being alone, and Castiel helps. A lot of angst with Sam and Dean's relationship, some bittersweet fluff at the end with Dean and Castiel's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Stars In The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I am aware that there may be problems with the logic in this plot but just... ignore them please. Thx! Also comments/reviews/kuddos are appreciated, I am just starting out with writing fanfiction so any helpful advice would be cool. :)

"It's my fault." Castiel appears at Dean's doorstep one afternoon after the brothers had returned from a particularly troubling hunt, a numb expression on his face.

  
For a moment, Dean is simply glad to see Castiel again, and a wave of contentedness sweeps briefly through him. Then he processes the words the restored angel has spoken, finding that they ring a certain familiarity within him. He's not sure what to say, not even sure what Castiel is admitting to, so instead he simply opens the door wider. "Come inside, Cas. What were you doing, taking a dip in the Atlantic?"

  
Castiel is, indeed, soaked from the rain, his trench coat a shade darker and dripping rainwater over the polished (but now slightly scuffed) wood flooring. He walks almost robotically through the doorway, following Dean into the kitchen. Dean pours a cup steaming liquid into a mug, grabbing a handful of sugar packets as he turns around to face Castiel, who is still standing, staring blankly at Dean. "Hey, you mind drying off?" He asks, nodding at the still sopping trench coat, which is in the process of forming a puddle around Castiel's feet.

  
Castiel blinks suddenly, as if being drawn back from a trance. "Right." He replies quietly, and with a roll of his shoulders, the water around him disappears.  
Dean squints at the other man for a moment, concern lacing his expression, green eyes intent, before he puts the mug down in front of Castiel, and slides it towards him over the counter. "Drink up, buddy," he says, because he knows that look on Cas' face, remembers what it feels like, understands that the questions he really wants answered (are you okay, why haven't we seen you, I missed you so much, why'd you have to leave, what did you do, what happened?) won't fly right now.

  
The angel glances down at the steaming mug, eyelids fluttering over blank blue eyes. Meekly (and this is when Dean knows something is seriously off), he leans down to pick up the mug, draining the boiling liquid down in one, long sip. For a moment, they are silent, Dean watching with worried, concerned eyes, and Castiel staring at his empty mug. "Dean." His voice cracks, filled with remorse and hurt and guilt, and when he finally glances back up, Dean almost looks away to avoid seeing the pain that fills his bleak eyes. "Dean, I'm so sorry. It's my fault. He... he's back and it's my fault..." Castiel's breaths are uneven, misplaced, almost as if he is gasping for air.

  
Dread begins seeping into Dean as he listens, making his limbs heavy and his mind slow. "Who- who's back, Cas?"

  
A long time ago, in an old, abandoned shack, Dean had watched Castiel say "I'm sorry" to his sister Anna, intending to kill her soon after, had watched as the once-angel had looked on with contempt, claiming Castiel could not begin to truly feel the emotion. Now, looking at Castiel's desperate, all-too-human face, he thinks the angel could not have a sharper understanding of the feeling, watching something in his drooping eyes break as his lips part, revealing a single name, one Dean had hoped, prayed, never to hear again. "Lucifer."

  
_____________________________________&_______________________________________

 

The three men are slumped over in their chairs, two brothers and a thrice-broken angel, all utterly silent. The morning had broken upon them already, though it was near impossible to distinguish for the grey clouds and ceaseless rain that seemed to fall constant and without reprieve, yet quietly, staining the windows with shifting droplets of water.

  
"I have to die." Sam's voice, loud and unflinching, breaks the silence.

  
Dean raises his head, a hopeless expression on his face and his green eyes darkened. "Sammy-" He begins, clenching shut his eyelids for once, rubbing his hand on his temple.

  
"No. No, Dean don't even try and protest it this time. You know, and I know, that there's no other way out of this. No more miracles, no more... pulling through at the last minute, or fighting with our heads held high, or whatever heroic crap you're about to spout." He shakes his head, brown hair swaying with him, and Dean automatically begins cataloguing every single thing about his little brother he can remember, the way his brown eyes used to glimmer when he was younger, lighter somehow, the way his hair had always been kind of shaggy, and had always been kinda short until he shot up one summer; how he used to look at Dean like he was the best thing in the world (and how he had been the only one to look at Dean like that), the way he had always been the emotional one, the hopeful one, even when Dean had been ready to give up. He cannot remember when it all switched.  
Dean presses his lips together, glancing away.

  
"Cas knows I'm right." Sam continues, and at his name, Castiel raises his head from his hands, a listless expression in his eyes.

For a moment, he moves his lips, seeming about to say something, but then he simply shakes his head and looks up to meet the younger Winchester's eyes. "Sam... Sam Winchester. I have caused you such pain. Despite what the angels thought, you are not my elder brother, though his vessel you may be... and I am impossibly regretful of my part in your fate." He takes a deep breath, hands clasped. "But yes. That is an... effective solution. What you suggest."

  
Sam nods, jaw set, as if Castiel's affirmation settles it. "Tomorrow night then. We'll summon Death down and make sure nobody else gets in the way, make him swear it's a one way trip." His brown eyes are hard, opaque, and devoid of hesitance.

  
______________________________________&______________________________________

 

"I don't know what to do, man..." Dean sits on the edge of the bed, tears glassing over his eyes, trickling down the lines in his face. Sam had left a little while ago, asking for some time alone, which Dean had reluctantly allowed. "He... he's my brother. I can't lose him, not for good." His voice cracks as he speaks, the volume receding into silence. Castiel sits opposite him, his normally brilliant blue eyes faded slightly as he watches. Dean shakes his head, a rueful, mocking half-smile on his face that doesn't meet his eyes. "There's no other way, is there? There- there's no back roads or some... secret incantation to gank that devil once and for all?"

  
Castiel looks away from the hunched over man across from him, lowering his eyes. "Sam's solution... is the only one can think of." He responds quietly. "Without a vessel... Lucifer will never rise to his true power. The apocalypse will never happen."

  
Dean inhales a rattling, uneven breath, drawing Castiel's gaze back to him. "I would do anything for things to be different Dean," He continues, almost desperately now. "You have to believe that I'd give anything for Sam... for him to not have to do this."

  
They both notice how carefully he avoids the word, but neither bothers to mention it. "Sammy was right about one thing." Dean admits, voice low, that joyless, half-grin tearing his face once again. "Without him... I'm alone. And God, if that doesn't scare the shit outta me."

  
Castiel cocks his head slightly. "You won't be alone," he says, as if it's the most obvious thing, when really it bewilders Dean, who looks back up at Cas with a tired, lost expression. "You'll have me." Castiel states plainly, simply.

  
Dean chuckles- a dry, hollow sound. "C'mon Cas. Don't kid yourself. Sooner or later, Metatron or somebody is gonna drag you back out on to the field, and you'll get caught up in something or other, and I won't see you for months, maybe years, and one day..." He lets out another gruff, choked laugh. " One day, you'll just... be gone." He waves his hand, letting it fall to rest heavily back on his knee. "Forget about me, or something'll make you forget..." Dean lets his voice trail off, a hopeless, bitter expression on his face.

  
"Dean," When the hunter finally raises his head, Castiel's eyes are wide and open and slightly incredulous, focused only on him. "I could never forget about you."

  
*

  
When they finally fuck that night (after Dean had somehow gotten his lips on Castiel's, and the latter responded similarly, breathless, blue eyes filled with something akin to awe), it's hard and desperate and all Dean can feel is Castiel, the little puffs of hot breath on his skin as Castiel mouths half forgotten poetry against his shoulder, and when Dean leans in and begs him in a broken voice, "Stay. Stay here forever," all he can hear is the angel responding, "Of course," in that same honest, firm way of his.

  
*

 

The next morning, Dean wakes up to find himself clinging to Castiel as if for dear life, their bodies wrapped around each other, limbs utterly entangled. The dark hairs at the nape of Castiel's neck brush against Dean's nose, and the former's eyes are still shut softly, though a brief tightening of his grip shows that he is aware the other is awake.  
They lay there, curled around each other, two broken soldiers, cut loose by absent fathers, cracked in half by the weight of existence, and abandoned by the world.

  
______________________________________&______________________________________

  
Dean and Castiel stand a few feet behind Sam, the three of them facing a pale figure who, though slim, seems to fill the empty warehouse with his ominous presence.

  
"I want to make sure we understand each other this time," Death states, pointedly glancing at Dean, who glares resiliently back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

  
"Yeah, we understand." Sam responds for them. His voice is dulled from its previous vigor, filled more with resolute acceptance than bravado now with his demise so tangibly close.

  
Death observes them quietly for a long moment, before continuing in his low, serious voice, delivering each statement with careful, even emphasis. "Sam will come with me to his death. Nobody shall be able to reach him- no angel, nor demon, nor human. I will ensure it." He turns a chastising eye to Dean. "You will not be able to resurrect him, no matter the situation, no matter the means. His condition will be final."

  
Dean nods, throat suddenly too tight to breathe through, eyes suddenly uncomfortably wet and his sight blurry. He coughs once, shakes his head, before replying. "Understood."

  
Death nods. "Sam. Are you ready?" He scans the tall man with wide eyes, the surrounding skin hollowed and darkened with age.

  
"Just... just one minute." Sam turns around to face Dean, somber but resolute. Dean steps forwards wordlessly, wrapping his arms tightly around his giant of a brother, eyes shut tight as Sam returns the gesture. They stay that way for a moment, clutching each other. It's difficult for Dean to comprehend the fact that Sam will be gone soon, permanently this time, by choice and without chance of return, but in that moment it finally hits, and tears streak down his worn face and onto his brother's old coat. Dean exhales a shaking breath. They've parted ways so many times before; this cannot be so different. "Keep Cas close, will you?" Sam whispers quietly into his ear, and his brother nods against his chest.

  
Dean steps back, his face clouded in utter desolation for half a moment before he twists it into some semblance of a smile. "See ya, Sammy." Despite his efforts, his voice is cracked and raw, and tears still mark his face.

  
Sammy raises the side of his mouth in half a smile, but it's sorrowful and doesn't reflect in his eyes. "Goodbye, Dean."

  
Then he is turning towards Death, who holds out an upwards palm, and takes his hand. Dean watches as the life leaves his little brother's body, flows into the pale figure before he disappears completely, leaving a slumped, empty shell lying on the cement floor.

  
______________________________________&______________________________________

 

_Time has passed since Sam's death. The angels have receded, the apocalypse avoided. Of course, Lucifer threw a few tantrums when his little doll went missing, but Dean can't really remember. He remembers shutting himself inside the bunker with Cas, remembering the way the flames crackled around his brother's burning body at the burial, eerily similar to how they had flared around his mothers so many years ago. He remembers Cas coming back from heaven every night with tired eyes that always seemed to light up at the sight of the Dean, and when the angels announced their departure, Castiel fell. And they lived, as normally as a hunter and an ex-angel could. Castiel brought home a guinea pig to care for. Dean, against his better judgment, somehow managed to pick up a dog, and if the dog had shaggy brown hair and amber, glimmering eyes that were maybe a little familiar, well, it eased the ache in his chest. Every memory of the past pained them, but they let the scenes play through their heads, watching in a bittersweet, oddly nostalgic way. When one of them breaks, the other is always there to heal the wound, and together, they live._

  
______________________________________ &______________________________________

 

"Do you ever miss them?"

  
"Miss who?"

  
"Your brothers. Or sisters. Or... whatever those dicks are called."

  
They are silent for a moment, the two men laying on the hood of the impala, the darkness of the night broken only by pinpoints of light in the cloudless sky. Castiel glances down briefly, then back up at the stars. "Of course I do, Dean." He responds quietly. "I miss them every day."

  
Dean turns to the fallen angel, a frown on his face. "They why would you ever choose to leave them? Why choose to stay down here and rot like the rest of us?" He asks incredulously, the pain and grief he has endured for once written plainly across his face, filling his eyes.

  
Castiel smiles gently, affection softening his gaze as his head tips slightly to the side. "Because I'd rather live quickly by your side with you than endure millennia after millennia without you."

  
Dean swallows at the statement and glances away, fixing his eyes on the sky above, following the path of glittering stars. Guilt gnaws away at him for having caused such a sacrifice, for having destroyed yet another being he loves.

  
"Dean," Castiel calls quietly, and when the man does not look back at him, he repeats a second time, louder and more insistent. "Dean."

  
Dean finally relents, forcing himself to look the other man in the eye. "Yeah Cas?" His voice, he is ashamed to realize, sounds choked and broken.

  
The fallen angel reaches out a hand, cups his face gently. Such adoration is in his eyes that it tugs something deep within Dean's tattered heart, and momentarily, the thought "I don't deserve this," flits across his mind yet again. But then Castiel opens his mouth and speaks, in that low, grounding voice, sounding more certain than he has in a long time.

  
"You are worth all the stars in the sky."


End file.
